Always
by WritinginCT
Summary: He had been her constant, then he was gone. His return puts things into place in her mind. Jack/Tosh romantic friendship.


Title: Always  
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT  
Fandom: Torchwood  
Pairing: Jack/Tosh  
Rating: 13+  
Warnings: none  
Categories: friendship, romance, comfort  
Feedback: Love it? Hate it?  
Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters I'm just inspired by them. Hopefully they've had fun playing in my sandbox.  
Summary: He had been her constant, then he was gone. His return puts things into place in her mind.  
Status: Complete 3/28/08

The Hub during Jack's absence had a different feel to it, less character, less warmth. The team had fallen into a bickering sort of groove as they shuffled around responsibilities and tried to find a new team dynamic that didn't include Captain Jack Harkness. Tosh went about her work as methodically and skillfully as ever, but it didn't quite hold the joy for her that it used to.

She tried not to miss Jack too badly, but it was near impossible. He was a constant for her, someone that she could always count on to be there for her. And suddenly he was gone, just gone.

She missed looking up from losing herself in her calculations to see him watching her as he leaned casually against the railing. She missed seeing how he would get gleefully excited when they figured out some new bit of technology that had slipped through the rift. She missed hearing his outrageous stories that she could never be sure if he were serious or not. And she missed the playful way he would flirt and wag his eyebrows as he let the innuendo flow.

It took her a while to realize what it was that she missed the most. And that was the way he would touch her. The touches came in many forms, a hand on her back as she went in door a head of him, his hand on her shoulders as he stood behind her as she crunched numbers on the computer, warm hugs when something went really well or really wrong, and even playfully tweaking her ponytail as he walked by. They were all gentle reminders that he cared, that he knew she was there. But now they were gone too, and no one touched her anymore.

Sometimes she would think about the time they spent trapped in 1941. He had been in his era. He had gotten such a joyful expression on his face as he saw the dance hall come back to life. He fit in so well, so naturally. And she believed him when he promised to take care of her if they were well and truly stuck in the past, looking after the people he cared about was second nature to him.

She learned so much about him in those few hours, and sometimes when she would really analyze it she wondered sometimes how he didn't implode under the weight of all that he carried. He had only given her a glimpse of it, and it near broke her heart. And as she watched the two men dance, she wondered how many times Jack's heart had been broken. And she wondered if he ever wanted someone to look after him in the same way he looked after everyone else.

She decided that she could do that, she could take care of him, shoulder some more of his burden. He, of course, wouldn't want her too. He'd want to protect her still, but she was strong and determined, and could bear it. And would bear it, because she loved him.

But then he was gone. And it was all moot. Still, she kept his secrets and tried to tell herself that maybe that little bit of weight that she were carrying for him had lightened his burden enough to give him the strength he needed wherever he was, to do whatever it was that he was doing.

And then he was back, in whirlwind. And she was torn between being happy to see him, and angry that he had left in the first place. But looking at him she realized that he seemed lighter, and more at peace.

She hadn't been alone with him since his return, and that didn't register in her mind as she worked very late one night hammering out a particularly difficult set of calculations after everyone else had gone home. Her eyes felt like sand and she went to go and get a cup of tea and came back to her computer to see a brightly wrapped package sitting in front of her keyboard. She sat down and picked up the gift, and sat there fingering the bright purple bow. She opened the package and found a beautiful antique fountain pen.

Tucked in with the pen was a note written in Jack's stylish script, "_Remember, don't press too hard. Love, Jack_."

She spun around to see him standing in the doorway upstairs and he smiled and gave her a little wink before heading to his desk.

She looked back to the note and read it again, and smiled this time, because she noticed that above his name he had drawn the symbol for infinity. Always he meant.

And then it all made sense in her mind, his trips forwards and backwards in time, his gift or curse of not being able to die, the endless string of lifetimes he had to look forward to. He shouldered all the weight, not by choice, but because he had to, no one else could make that journey beside him. And that did break her heart. He didn't just love, he loved for always. And when he lost someone, he would miss them always.

She gently closed the box on the beautiful gift, and as it clicked shut a decision also clicked in her mind, she might not be able to care for him to infinity, for always, but she could care for him here and now. She made a few keystrokes and mouse clicks then headed up the stairs to his office.

He looked from where he sat at his desk as she approached. And before he could say a word the gentle strands of Moonlight Serenade filled the Hub. Tosh smiled and held out her hand, "Come dance with me, Captain."

Jack dropped the file he was looking at and teased with a wide smile as he walked towards her, "Since when do you like Glenn Miller?"

Without hesitation she teased back, "Since 1941."

His deep chuckle filled the room, and as he swept her into his arms to dance everything finally went full circle as he touched her for the first time since his return. They danced and laughed, and teased, and just enjoyed the moment. And she let herself just be completely in that moment, because it was a gift she could give him, something happy to look back on in years to come. A moment of levity and simple joy that he could pull strength from if the loneliness and darkness threatened to overtake him. A moment that he could look back on and know with absolute certainty that someone cared for him, that someone loved him.

And as the playlist of songs faded out he kissed her, long and slow and gentle. It wasn't an invitation for more, it was a benediction, an acknowledgment of the moment, of what he felt for her, of what she felt for him. And as he pulled back his eyes softened and he promised, "Always."

She stroked his cheek and vowed in return, "Always."

(the end)


End file.
